You Only Think Of The Best Comeback When You Leave

Firstly, let’s just address the fact that I attempted to get into the blogging world just over a year ago and have been quite lame at keeping up with it.

Really.  QUITE lame.

I think it all boils down to the fact that I really don’t think my life is overly exciting and that people don’t really care to read about a secretly lazy, (almost) middle aged, pudgy, single woman who has a love for PJs and movies on the weekends.  But….after searching for some inspiration I have found some truly great blogs which have motivated me to get cracking again…(namely:,, and

 I originally started this blog as a way for friends and family to follow my adventures in Australia but what I am hoping it will turn into now is a place to share my life, thoughts and maybe some sneaky shopping trips.

Alright then…on to this post.

It’s about love.  Self love to be exact (…get your minds out of the gutter…)

It’s February….Valentines Day.

 A day this singleton really doesn’t mind…because, well, I love love.  And yes, you shouldn’t need a designated day to remind you to love, or guilt you into doing things/buying things for those you love…but I love that it is a day all about love. Love, love, love. (barf)

Now there are a bunch of different forms of love; love for family, for friends and being in love with a partner…I have been blessed with a history rich in all those forms of love….but one area that I still struggle with (I’m talking 30+ years of struggling) is being comfortable with my body and loving my physical self.

I honestly can’t remember when I haven’t obsessed about my body.  Obviously as a toddler I wasn’t worried about my bongo belly when I would be put in a bathing suit and I never worried about the size of my thighs. I would play on the beach and interact with other kids who never judged.  They also didn’t care or know anything about body image.

It was around grade 6 (age 10/11) when I started to become aware of the fact that I was a bigger girl.  Kids started to get meaner and more judgmental about my size.  The friends I had in elementary school were now growing tall and skinny and I was staying short and growing outwards instead of upwards.  I started to really struggle with and hate my body.  And it has never stopped.

Until today.

On this day of roses, fancy dinners and chocolates to pledge your love, I am making a different kind of “love pledge”.  I’m going to stop, once and for all, obsessing about my weight and my size.  When the negative thoughts start creeping in I am going to focus on what my body has done for me (4 completed half marathons along with a handful of triathlons for a start), not about the size of my pants or the cellulite on my legs.

It doesn’t mean that I am “giving up” but I’m shifting my focus.  Instead of running/spinning/working out to burn X amount of calories, I’m going to do those things because I truly love to do them.  I’m going to eat butter (is it REALLY butter?!!) soaked movie popcorn with friends, who love me unconditionally, and not secretly hate myself afterwards.

  I’m going to look at my naked self in the mirror and smile because I know I’m strong and that my beauty isn’t dictated by the size of my ass but rather the size of my heart.  And I love my heart…it’s time to love my ass!

Hugs and Love